


Cable (and Deadpool), Issue 24.5

by rallamajoop



Category: Cable and Deadpool
Genre: Chapter Related, Fourth Wall Breaking, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 02:11:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rallamajoop/pseuds/rallamajoop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Cable #25</i> told us that before Cable took off for the future with Hope, he had to get some help from an old friend. But before <i>that</i> happened, his old friend had to get an unexpected phone call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cable (and Deadpool), Issue 24.5

**Author's Note:**

> Written in honour of the confusingly named [Cable & Deadpool #25](http://marvel.com/catalog/?id=14657) \- not the actual issue #25 of the old series, but issue #25 of the later Cable's new series, retitled and actually set _before_ issue #1 of the same to retcon Deadpool into the early part of the whole Hope/Messiah Noun thing. Confusing, yes, and probably yet another attempt to cash in on Deadpool's recent popularity, but given that this must be the first time since C &DP ended that any writer at Marvel has so much as acknowledged they ever used to be friends (see - or better yet, _don't_ see - _Messiah War_ ), C&DP fans rejoiced.
> 
> Like so many comic-related things, the issue arguably raised more questions than it answered - chief among them being, how could I pass up on Deadpool _knowing_ he's in a retcon?
> 
> (As a side node, this fic is no more slashy than what you'd find in canon, but considering what the canon was like, _not_ tagging this with the pairing felt willfully misleading.)

It started, as do many things in life, with the sound of the phone ringing. Wade reached for it with his non-remote hand, and after only a few seconds of groping around, managed to get a grip on the receiver without taking his eyes off the TV.

"Deadpool, merc-for-hire at your service! Exes axed, members dissed, witticisms quipped at competitive prices, how may I..."

"Wade, it's me," said the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Oh, cause _that_ narrows it down."

" _Me_ , Wade. Cable."

Wade dropped the remote.

"Cable? _Cable_ Cable? Nate Priscilla Gesundheit Soldier X Messiah-Wannabe Summers Cable?"

"How many Cables do you know?"

"Gee, I don't know." Wade kicked his feet up on the couch and made a show of crossing his legs and wiggling his toes around like they were the most interesting thing in the room – sure voice-on-phone couldn't actually see him doing it, but Wade could make himself feel better just pretending he could. "The only one coming to mind is some guy who made this _big show_ of blowing an island out from under himself so he could run off and leave _me_ to raise our poor, neglected team-up series all by my single-parent-self, then didn't bother to _call_ me for two years or even invite me to his resurrection party – is _that_ the Cable we're talking about?"

"Wade..." there was a confused pause, "what are you talking about? I've only been away a month."

"...a month?"

"What day did you think it was?"

"Is this one of your time travel things? Because that so doesn't count."

"I don't know what you've been up to while I've been gone, but I promise you the last time I saw you was only a month ago... Wade, are you there?"

Wade wasn't. He was hunting for a calendar.

He finally found one under the couch, dated 1985 with only half the pages missing, and was just in the middle of being horrified by the thought of being back in the years of leg-warmers and mullets and when he realised he 1) hadn't lived here that long, 2) didn't buy calendars, and 3) had just dug through at _least_ twenty years of dustbunnies.

He did, however, find a very recent looking TV guide, and the date on that was...

...no _way_. For _serious?_

There was only one way to be sure. Wade flicked through a few pages and grabbed for the remote.

"WADE!" the voice on the phone was yelling when he put it back to his ear.

"Oh my god, Nate, it _is_ two years ago!"

"What do you...?"

"Quick, what happened in 2008? Did anything happen in 2008? No, wait, is it too late for me to bet my whole life savings on the next election?"

"I don't know what you're-"

"Are _you_ sure this isn't a time travel thing? ...waitasec, Nate... Nate, did you... are you trying to make it up to me by getting me a retcon of our whole break-up? Wow, Nate, I don't know what to say, that's so sweet of you! Or just kinda creepy and desperate..."

" _Wade!_ We don't have time for this!"

" _Sure_ we have time! Two whole years, weren't you listening?" Wade kicked his legs back up on the couch again. "And I'm doing just fine, _since you asked_. Woke up a couple of weeks back to find the whole of Agency X had vanished for some reason and no-one wanted to play team-up with me anymore and our comic had got a cancellation for its fifth birthday because apparently child services just didn't trust me to support it without you around – _not that I blame you or anything_. But enough about me..."

"I mean it, I _don't_ have time for this, Wade, I need your help!"

"Oh, _now_ he needs my help. Yeah, well my help comes at an hourly rate."

"I'll pay you whatever you want for this. Please, there's no-one else I can trust with this!"

Emotional blackmailing bastard. Always did know how to lay it on thick. "So _all_ the X-Men weren't answering the phone?"

There was a crackle down the phone of someone taking a deep breath, or maybe a sigh. "You _were_ the first person I thought of."

"I was?"

"Is that so surprising?"

"Uh, I dunno, I just..." Retcons really took the edge of a good dose of righteous anger.

"Listen," said Nate, "this isn't how I was picturing our reunion, but there's a baby girl. A _mutant_. We have to get to..."

"A _baby?_ You didn't say anything about a baby."

"That might be because you've hardly let me get a word in edgeways since you answered the phone."

"So this is going to be like one of those 'three mutants and a baby' kind of things? Okay, but if you call Tom Selleck then I get to be the cartoonist. Who's our third guy?"

"No third guy. No backup, no satellite, no island. Just you and me."

"Just the two of us and a baby? 'Cause _that's_ not going to be at all hom..."

"Look, it doesn't matter. Just meet... _can_ you meet me at the hospital? It's in Alaska – place called Cooperstown."

Nate was not the kind of guy who _pleaded_ , but there was a note in his voice that was getting so disconcertingly close to it that Wade had said, "Sure, I guess," before he could think better of it. Because he was already feeling bitter about being that much of a pushover, he added, "Anything else? You want me to pick up a bottle of milk on the way home, dear? Dipers and formula maybe?"

"No, no, actually that's a good idea." Nate sounded quietly, thoroughly stressed out of his mind – Wade could almost picture him pinching his nose. Damn residual guilt. He wasn't done not forgiving him yet! "Wade?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll see you soon."

The line went dead. Wade spent several seconds staring angrily at the receiver. He made to throw it at the TV, then hesitated, then decided to throw it out the window, then decided not to do that either, and finally put it back down on the receiver, but he slammed it down, and that made him feel a bit better.

"Don't think this means I forgive you for not inviting me to your resurrection, _jerk_ ," he muttered, not particularly sure who he was trying convince.

_Wow, nice doormat impression._

"Shut up," said Wade. Then, "Wait, who said that?"

_Uh, you did?_

"Oh come on, 'cause I totally have a little voice in my head that hijacks my little yellow boxes to talk back at me! Hell, why not two of 'em?"

_Don't ask me._

"Fine, I won't!"

_Fine!_

"Fine!"

There was a pause.

"You still there?"

_No?_

"Good! Don't you forget it!"

He slammed the door on the way out too, just for good measure. The resulting bang was so loud it scared off two pigeons and made a guy down the road drop his groceries, and that cheered him up a whole lot too. By the time he was on the street he was practically whistling.

Ah, what the hell. He always had sucked at staying mad at Nate.


End file.
